


You Caused My Heart To Bleed, And You Still Owe Me Reason

by bigsweatersandcuddleweather



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Beards, Dom Liam, Dom/sub, Dom/sub Play, Heartbreak, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Pain, Sub Zayn, Subdrop, implied sophiam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-30
Updated: 2014-04-30
Packaged: 2018-01-21 10:41:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1547735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bigsweatersandcuddleweather/pseuds/bigsweatersandcuddleweather
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All Zayn wants is Liam’s love, all he gets are a collar around his neck and words like whore and slut. Until the others come and try to mend him back again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Caused My Heart To Bleed, And You Still Owe Me Reason

"Fuck, you’re such a good slut. But only mine, my cockslut." Liam groaned, slumping over the bound and gagged figure, who strained against him, whining into the gag. It took Liam another minute to actually stand up, undoing the bonds on the leather restraints and the gag around those pink lips of his buddy. He gave him a smile and a small kiss on the cheeks as a thank you before walking into the bathroom, coming back to wipe Zayn down, along his swollen overused entrance before tossing the rag away and reaching for his clothes.

"D-don’t you want to stay?" Zayn asked, wincing as he sat up, drawing the sheets around his shoulders.

"I wish babe, but gotta go. Just gotta call from MM, gotta do some promo with Soph." he said, buttoning up the front of his shirt and straightening his hair out. Zayn’s heart sank to his gut with the familiarity of his fake girlfriend, but he nodded, reaching up for the collar around his slim neck but two large hands stopped him, grabbing onto his dainty wrists with more force then normal.

 

"No, leave that on. I like how it looks." Liam murmured, rough fingers tracing along the edges of the leather band, pressing slightly to hear the gasp that fell from the swollen pink lips.

"B-but Liam."

"No. You’re mine. My beautiful whore. Not gonna open your legs for anyone else but me while I’m gonna right?" he hummed, pressing a hard domineering kill to those tempting lips, until Zayn was nodding, straining into the touch but Liam’s hand found the back of his head, tugging on his hair harshly because he was in charge, Zayn’ could only sit back and take what was given to him.

"Because I will be very very disappointed if you did that…again." he words making Zayn’s shoulders slump in shame, even though it hadn’t been anything but an innocent kiss on Louis’s cheek, for which he got a pounding until he couldn’t get out of bed for two days after.

"Good boy. I’ll see you later." pressing one last kiss and a tight squeeze on the collar he walked out the door, letting it fall shut behind him with a resounding click.

Zayn slumped back into the empty bed, reaching out to the warmth that had been there mere seconds ago but now painfully frigid and stiff, just like his limbs. That was the seventh time this month that Liam had come over, gotten the release from anxiety that he needed before leaving with that same easy going smile, as if Zayn’s heart wasn’t grinding with each of those twenty four teeth that appeared and gnawed into Zayn’ very reserve. 

He doesn’t know how long he spends in Liam’s room with the curtains drawn and submerged in darkness but eventually somehow he ended up in the kitchen, pacing around the cold tile floor, but everything felt cold to his frostbitten fingers and toes, the shivers that wracked through his entire body convulsing to find a source of heat in the too big shirt that hung from his shoulders.

_He left. He fucking left. He’s always leaving. Because you’re nothing to him. Nothing but a free hole when he needs to get off. How could you possibly think that you could be anything more then that? You disgusting stupid creature_

It hurt, the tightening in his gut that stopped his heart from beating, but he still felt it, felt everything, the cold seeping through his fingers and chilling him to the bone as he curled up in the corner of the kitchen, the table offering him cover as there were knocks on the door.

_Nothing. Nothing but a useless whore, a hole for his cock, nothing else. He could never love you. Slut. You would probably fuck anyone. That’s why he went to Paris with Sophia. Because she’s not a slut who will open her legs for anyone. Why would he want you when he could have her?_

He shuddered, hands scrambling at the collar around his neck, trying to loosen the bond but his hands shook with such ferocity, the pounding bangs on the door doing nothing but setting him further on edge.  
 _He probably asked someone to come and take you away. So that he doesn’t have to see your face anymore. Cause your nothing to him. Slut whore. Nothing but a pussy bitch. A pussyboy._

He was full on sobbing at this point, tugging at the locked collar harder and harder until his head was light and floaty, making him float, but the weight in his stomach kept him painfully on the ground, sinking through the floors. He was barely aware of shouts on the other side of the door, banging coming harder along with shouts of his name, but he tried to quiet down, shoving his fist into his mouth. Liam didn’t like when he made noises, he didn’t like when he talked, told him to be quiet unless he said so.  
His quiet only seemed to make the noises outside worse, someone banging until he heard a sickening crack and the door probably coming off it’s hinges.

"Check upstairs, I’m gonna look down here." Harry dark voice commanded, frantic and shaky. He curled up tighter, arms around his knees and teeth clenching on aching fingers.

"Haz, he’s not up here." Niall’s shaky voice called.

"Crap. Zayn? Hey..Zayn?" Harry’s voice called his name softly, afraid to raise it unless it scared Zayn.

He knew what was going on here, and it was something he and the other boys accepted. But they hadn’t seen or heard from the tan boy since Liam took off two days ago, and Liam had called them, a bit frantic when he wouldn’t pick up any of his calls or answer his texts. Harry listened carefully, ears peaked for any sign of him, a tell tale sniffle letting him know that he was here.

"Zayn? Come on out. It’s Harry. Come on mate." treading carefully into the kitchen, Niall hanging off his shoulder. Glancing around the kitchen his eyes fell on the table and he could see a shadow of something that didn’t belong. Bending to his knees he caught a glimpse of big terrified eyes that watched him, as if seeing a stranger, curled up and so so small.

"Hey. Hey Zayn. Why don’t you come here?" he called softly, cringing when Zayn flinched, from him of all people. The darkened eyes widened and he shook his weary head, trying to burrow deeper then he already was.

"No? Zee, it’s me. It’s just Harry. You must be freezing Zayn. Come on, let’s go up to your bed." but the very mention of bed seemed to set him off, whimpering pitifully as he pressed his hands over his ears.

"Liam’s, not here. Wont do it. Not a whore. Not a cockslut. Only Liam, just want Liam."

"No, we’re just going to sleep Zayn. Just sleep. Please? Will you come here?" but he didn’t seem to hear him, finger digging into his hair, tugging fiercely as his eyes bulged slightly, muttering under his breath frantically.

"Ni, see if you can get that dumbass on the phone?" Harry glanced back at the blonde who nodded, pulling out his phone was shivering fingers.

"Zayn. Come here now." he tried a strict command, regretting the decision because all Zayn did was shoot him a frightened vague look, as if he wasn’t really there. In his head.

"He’s not picking up."

"Alright, I’m not playing around anymore. On the count of three move the table." glancing at Niall as they grasped opposite sides of the table, silently counting and then lifting it up and across the room.

"I’m gonna grab some covers, I doubt he’s going to move anytime soon." Harry said with a heavy sigh, puling out his phones as he walked toward the upstairs closet, ready to tear Liam a new one but there wasn’t any answer.

"Zayn? Can I hold you?" Niall asked softly, crouching in front of his friend, nomally so tough and put together, haughty even and now he was nothing more then shivers and big eyes that looked at him like a stranger.

"Liam. Want Liam. Ni, where…where I-n-no. D-don’t touch m-m-m-me." looking positively frozen in just an over sized shirt, one that was obviously Liam’s.

"It’s alright. Liam’s coming. It’s going to take a while. Don’t you want to wait upstairs for him?"

"Off, Ni. D-don’t w-w-want this a-anymore." stuttering through his sobs as he tugged on the collar around his neck, leaving red marks around his narrow tan skin.

"Hey, easy. Don’t hurt yourself mate. I’ll take it off." Niall edged closer lowly, reaching out and with careful hands nudged Zayn’s harsh fingers away, tugging at the band until it gave way, showing the bruises that his frantic panicking had caused, red that would soon fade into harsh blues and purples, mottled and painful. He seemed to breath easier once it was gone, but the lost upset look in his eyes was still there, unsure and flinching as harry reentered, pillows and blankets tucked under his long arms.

"We’re going to stay in here until you want to move Zayn. And then you’re going to come and stay in my flat with me."

"Bu-But- Li-I …No." he tried to push away the blanket that harry’s careful hands tucked around his shoulders but he was so so tired, so weary and ready to nod off that he brought them closer till they were tucked under his chin, leaning against the wall for support. Harry tsked but tucked a pillow behind his back, pressing a maternal kiss on his forehead, smoothing the hair off his face.

"Love you Zayner. All of us do."  _But Liam doesn’t. You’re just his whore, a pretty face in a world of them, just another dime in a sack of them when he’s looking for quarters._

~~~~~~~

Harry and Niall were still there when he woke up the next morning, blankets and comforters swaddling him instead of the cold kitchen tile. They watched carefully, ceasing all conversation as the swollen eyes peeked open, red rimmed eyes unfocused as he slowly came back into consciousness.

"Hey. Hey Zayn." Louis stood in the doorway, tiptoeing closer when he saw the dark haired lad try to focus on his voice.

"How are you love?" he asked, persisting even though Zayn curled up, flinching away from all of their stares, but he only stared at them with big scared eyes, unsure and uncomfortable.

"Are you sore? Would you like some paracetamol?" smiling as his hand ran through the dark hair, immediately getting those tense shoulders to relax, Zayn pushing against his touch desperately, craving it.

"L-Li-Liam?" his voice was hoarse, coughing against the tickle that hurt his throat. Niall reached over, holding a bottle of water to his lips and Zayn obediently sipped at the cool liquid, letting out a sigh of relief.

"No. He’s not back yet babe." wincing because Zayn didn’t seem in any state to move but he wanted to get his mate out of here. Liam hadn’t called or picked up any of their calls and they hated him at that moment, because Zayn curled up, impossibly small and started to cry, hands brought over his face so that they wouldn’t see his shame.

"W-w-whe-" his stuttering was so bad that he shivered with each attempt at a word, cutting himself off completely and just shaking his head with body trembling shudders.

"Hey, you’re alright. Everything is alright babe." Harry immediately came over to his side, gently nudging Louis aside so that he could curl up over the small figure, his body hovering over his, comforting and protective. He didn’t know why he did that, but instincts spoke and he’s glad they did because Zayn’s sniffles quieted down and he unfurled from his protective positioning slightly, one shaking hand reaching out to grasp Harry’s wrist,fingers shaking too violently to actually apply any grip.

"Yeah, that’s it. Relax love. Take deep breaths." he murmured in his ear, large hand rubbing his back up and down, again and again.

"Are you still tired?" he asked as the eyelids fluttered again, long delicate eyelashes making waves on his cheeks. But Zayn didn’t even seem to hear him, eyes dilated and so far away.

"We’re completely out our element here. We don’t know how to take care of him like this." he sighed, shaking his head.

"Sub drop. That’s what he’s going through." Niall said triumphantly, raising his phone with a successful grin on his face.

"Basically after him and Liam did…well whatever the fuck it is that they do, he comes down from his ‘high’ like when he’s running on endorphins and for a lot of people it can be good or bad, and I’m guess he’s having a bad time. He’ll start to doubt that he’s really good and if Liam really wants him. He just needs attention. For us to tell him that he’s good and we love him. He needs Liam to do it but Payno is M.I.A so we may as well try it." Niall said, eyes skimming the long article, then handing the phone to Louis so that the eldest lad could properly look it over, making mental notes here and there. Niall climbed into the other side of the bed, hands wrapping around the narrow waist even as Zayn jerked away violently.

"Hey. Zayn, I know you’re in there and I need you to focus and pay attention to what I have to say…can you do that?" surprising Louis and Harry with how firm he was speaking. They were about to reprimand him when Zayn actually responded, with a shaky but noticeable nod, eyes opening in an effort to focus.

"You are so good. So important. Not only to Liam but to us as well. And we are going to be here for you, as long as you need us. Alright? Whatever you need, we will give you that. Because you are absolutely wonderful, and perfect. The perfect sub, alright?" he asked, staying firm but gentle, his pale hands going through the pitch black hair.

"Now you get some rest and I’m going to bring you something to eat, and I expect you to eat all of it, understand?" he asked, becoming stern again, waiting till he got that vague nod before glancing at Louis and Harry, a command to get something for him to eat. Harry headed to the kitchen while Louis hunted extra blankets, trying to ease Zayn’s constant tremors.

It took them two days before they could convince Zayn to come back to their flat, especially after he spent a day repeatedly calling Liam again and again and again, only to go to voice mail each and every time. Niall had to hold him for hours afterward to stop the quivering in his shoulders and hold his hands so they wouldn’t tug at his hair.

They packed all of his things, every sweater and sock, stuffing his toothbrush and combs into the bags, arms around his shoulders as they eased him out of the door for the first time in near weeks, shuffling over to Louis’s car as he drove them to Harry’s flat, both he and Niall making sure the brunette was settled under covers in front of the t.v because he never seemed to get warm anymore, no matter how many layers they forced him to wear, unless someone was holding him.

"Are you sure you can handle this Haz?" they asked, hovering in the doorway.

"Yeah, I think. Don’t worry guys, go get some sleep. I’ll take care of him."

"And when Liam comes back? Then what are we going to do?" Niall asked, lowering his voice and peering over Harry’s shoulder to make sure a certain someone was eavesdrop

"Well tell him to fuck off and find Zayn someone else." Louis said, still pissed at his mate for doing this. Not only to Zayn but to them. They didn’t like being put in this situation, having to see their Zee so split and unsure, flinching and shattered because Liam wanted a good fuck. Didn’t Liam even know Zayn? He absolutely knew about Zayn’s feeling for him and how deep they ran through his veins, delicate and strong at the same time. Yet he chose to toy with him, pushing him past his limits and not being there to catch him. He was beyond pissed, he was outraged and fuming, ready to hurt Liam like he hurt Zayn.

"Lou, Liam is our mate too-"

"Look what he did to Zayn Ni! How can you defend him?"

" ‘M not defending him. If ye would let me get a word out-"

"Enough, guys he doesn’t need to hear you guys arguing like an old married couple. Go home, duke it out and then fuck like animal, because god only knows you need it." he slammed the door in their sputtering shocked blushing faces, laughing for a second before he noticed dark eyes peering at him over the edge of the couch, curious instead of scared.

"I’m gonna make a bit of soup Zee. And you’re eating it." he demanded, actually getting a response, a groan but a response nonetheless.

"I- I can cook Hazza?" using the term of endearment like a child almost, twisting the edges of the blanket in his fist. Harry didn’t want to tell him yes, wanting him to take it easy but he knew that if he had nothing to do he would get trapped in his own thoughts and that was far from where he needed to be.

"You can help me. Would you like something else instead of soup?" he asked, leaning against the door as Zayn stood up, folding the blanket back on the armrest, out of habit because Liam didn’t like things willynilly.

"Curry? Or samosas?" he asked, peering up at Harry through the mess of tangled eyelashes, nervous when he shouldn’t be.

"That sounds lovely. Just tell me what you need me to do. You’re in charge of things today. Come on chef Zayn."

"C-can’t you tell me w-what t-t-to do?" eyes darting around the expansive kitchen, apprehensive and hesitant, fingers twitching with the zipper of his sweater.

"Why? Don’t you want to be in charge?" Harry asked, leaning back against the counter, hip pressed to the smooth edge as he resisted the urge to reassure his mate. He needed to face his own issues before Liam came back and made things worse. Zayn just shook his head, keeping his eyes on the floor.

"Why not?" only getting a shake of a head.

"No, why not Zayn? You have a mind, a brilliant amazingly insightful mind and you can make decisions, great ones and stupid ones but your own. Remember that one night after you came back after your aunt died? And you came to my room and we spent the whole night talking? You told me that part of your was so so glad for One Direction because you felt trapped at home, because your dad expected you to be someone you couldn’t? That you would never let anyone boss you around or make you someone your not? Because we were your supports? What happened to that?" Harry asked, voice soft and fingers locked around his biceps, because Zayn’s shoulders seemed to be curling in on him, the unseen weight heavy on his narrow frame, tears dewing on his long sinewy eyelashes, trapped, like him.

"L-Li-Liam w-wanted someone he could be in c-ch -harge of, I wanted Liam." it sounded so easy, so simple but the aching emptiness in his voice told harry that it had ripped literally everything out of him, Liam taking and taking until Zayn had nothing left to give or love with, only a vague shell, walking around saying the same thing. I’m fine, I’m fine, I’m fine.

"And was it worth it? Was losing yourself worth it in the end?" he could’ve slapped himself for asking something so stupidly blind and idiotic, especially so when he saw the diminutive figure shaking his head, mouth gaping as he tried to think, to breath, to live. But he didn’t know how to do anything or be anything, not without Liam.

"Hurts. A lot." he sniffled, glancing up between lashes to look at his taller friend, bottom lip quivering and Harry was there immediately, not afraid of him flinching as he wrapped him up tight and snug in his arms, trying to hold him together when he as already torn apart and the parts scattered asunder.

"I know. Broken hearts tend to do that."

"Been broken for a long long time." he gasped through suppressed choked sobs, nosing at Harry’s collarbone, trying to seek comfort, from what he didn’t even know, Liam…or himself.

"Then it’s time to start mending it." Harry tone was deep, rocking in his chest and vibrating through Zayn’s whole body, strong, and something he needed.

"How?"

"By eating of course. How about we get some samosas from Shimlas and whatever else looks good, load up on ice cream and I have some of those mini bottle of schnapps under the sink. We’re going to gorge ourselves until we throw up and then do it all over again." his his sizable hands caressing the small dimpled back, making the small body slump into his grip.

"H-he doesn’t l-l-like it w-when I drink." there was a stuttering uncertainty, waivering between acceptance and reluctance.

"He can go fuck himself. It’s not up to him what you do anymore. This is you Zayn. All you."

"O-o-okay." Harry should be worrying, why the stuttering only seems to be getting worse but he he was making progress, that’s all he was worried about at the moment.

Two hours, several platters of korma, masala biriyani, with lots of chicken on the side, and vanilla milkshakes laced with vodka and tangy strawberry sauce Harry lay sprawled across the couch, Zayn’s head perched on his sprawled arm and curled into his warmth, a blanket tossed over his shoulders, both of them fast asleep, the alcohol making them sleep weary and relaxed, free of their worries for even a few hours.

~~~~~~~~~

When Liam stepped through the threshold of his house a week later, he immediately knew that something was wrong, the house feeling…cold, empty.

"Zayn? Zayn?" he called, walking through the halls, peering in the kitchen, no small body standing at the stove, glancing up at him with a shy smile and something he tried to make but failed miserably. Instead all he saw his the kitchen table shoved to the middle of the tiled floor. Delving deeper into the house with a panic rising in his gut he peered into his bedroom, not seeing ruffled dark hair tucked under the comforter, tiny smile on those pale pink lips in a pout at having to sleep alone.

He tore apart the house, searching for a note, something to indicate that Zayn would be back, but once he saw the empty room and barren closet and the collar laying on the bedside table he knew that he had royally fucked up somehow, that something had happened. Scrambling in his panic he grabbed the house number and dialed Zayn’s phone, praying against hope that he would pick up.

"Hello?" it wasn’t his voice.

"Hello?"

"Liam?" the voice turned harsh, once it recognized him.

"Harry? Why do you have Zayn’s phone? Nevermind that. Is he with you? I came home and his stuff was all packed up and gone. Did he say if he was going anywhere?" pacing around the untidy room. Usually Zayn took care of it, but he hadn’t been here in a while apparently. There was muffled whispering on the other end.

"Look, I’m gonna be upfront with you. He’s here and he’s going to stay here. No, Lou go and watch him." he heard Harry scold but his heart was in his gut.

"What? Why can’t he come back? Harry your sleepover is over. I want to see Zayn, so tell him to come back." he growled, the jetlag and his irritating week with Sophia grating on his nerves.

"Liam, do you even fucking know the damage that you caused? Do you even understand the shit that you and Zayn are doing? Because or your fucking little tryst?" surprising Liam with the harsheness in his tone.

"I-it’s our choice Harry. What goes on in private time is none of your concern." he retorted just as furiously.

"No, it is my damn business when I come over to your house and he’s on the floor of your kitchen, hiding under the table and tugging at that stupid thing around his fucking neck until he nearly chokes. And he looks at me like he’s sorry. Like it’s all his fault. I just- I’m not fucking doing this over the phone right now. Or ever. Figure out whether getting off is more important then your relationship or Zayn. For fucks sake." the other part was directed to someone behind him.

"Shit. No, no Zayn. I’m not mad at you. Don’t- please come here. No I’m no-" he phone was shut off as Harry pleaded with Liam’s lover, sending pained gasps heaving from his throat. He didn’t understand the gravity of his error. He didn’t understand why they wouldn’t let him see his boyfriend. Sure they did a little big of roleplay while they were in bed, but they had plenty of kinks, what was Harry going on about?

In frustration he texted Niall asking him what the fuck he did wrong. All he got in return was a link, which he promptly clicked on, sending him to Dom/sub play? It didn’t click until he was at the part about subdrop, reading the vague paragraph, then reading it again. And again, before lunging for his laptop, typing in words to frantically search for things he should have known a long time ago.

He spent the rest of the night on his laptop, eyes tearing from strain as he bounced from article to article, trying to get a sense of what he had done, and it made the thudding in his heart crash to a stop because fuck he was so fucking stupid.

Shoving away the macbook he grabbed his jacket, hiking it halfway across London on foot to Louis and Niall’s place, banging on the door until it opened and a rumpled Louis was standing there glaring at him from flattened hair, one leg of his sweats raising slightly above his knees, making him look like a child.

"What the fuck, has you banging on my door at five in the fucking morning like a madman?" he growled, rubbing languidly at fatigued darkened bags under his eyes.

"How was he? When you guys found him what did he say? Is- is he okay now?" he asked, trying to be heard over Louis’s grumbling. Louis glanced up for a second, taking in his mates weary look, like he hadn’t slept peacefully in weeks, dressed in wrinkled mussed clothes, shoes on the wrong feet and hair greasey and dandruff flaking along his hairline.

"Liam, can we do this at a more reasonable hour? When I’m actually conscious?"

":Louis just fucking tell me so that I can fix this!" Liam growle, hands moving of their own accord, twisting the fabric of the smaller man’s shirt and shoving him against the wall, eyes murderous but underneath Louis could see the desperate fear to hear that he didn’t mess up, that he could fix this, fix Zayn.

"Oi! Liam get the fuck off of him!" Niall came barreling out of the bedroom, barreling into his best mate and off his boyfriend, using surprising strength with an arm around his shoulders and behind his neck, leacing him immobile.

"Fuck you Liam. You’re such a fucker for doing that to him! He deserves much better then the shit that you put him through? Was it worth it? Leaving your best mate this stuttering vulnerable fucking mess just so you could get off to your fucking sadistic kinky fantasies? Was it worth ruining him?" Louis shouted, glaring at his bandmate with narrowed angry eyes, Niall the only reason he was stopping himself.

"Louis, go back to the bedroom. I’m going to take care of it. Go back to bed." Niall demanded, inserting his assertiveness, looking at Louis pointedly until the small brunette huffed and stomped off, the door slamming behind him with a more then audible slam.

"What the hell are you doing here Li?" Niall asked, letting his friend out of the headlock once the coast was clear. "You’ve probably just gotten me banned from our bedroom for the next two weeks.

"Fuck your sex. What happened to Zayn? Why is he staying at Harry’s? How is he? Seriously." Liam pleaded, prepared to go down on his knees because he wanted to make things right. Niall seemed uneasy, hands rubbing at the back of his neck in the universal sign of deciding whether or not to lie.

"Look, Liam you can crash here for the night. And we’ll talk about this in the morning. Or afternoon."

"Niall, please. Please." and this time Liam really did get on his knees, looking every bit as anxious as Niall felt, but his was pained and scare, like a little kid, like Zayn.

"Fuck, okay. Get up mate, come here and I’ll tell you all that I can." Niall dragged his mate backwards onto the couch, not wasting anytime in trying to be gentle, telling him point blank in what state they found their mate, and relaying his progress that they both saw and heard from Harry when he wouldn’t let them come over.

"Damn, damn."

"Yeah, yeah." Niall stifled a yawn into the crook of his arm, looking longingly toward his bedroom, to Louis and to soft covers that were tempting him so much. He wasn’t made out for drama, he wasn’t about that life. But Liam looked so close to tears, to a meltdown and Niall’s heart went out to him.

"I didn’t- I didn’t- like why- why didn’t he tell me?" he asked, voice hoarse and faint, horrified at what his Zayn could be feeling, could’ve been feeling all those times he had to leave, all those times he willingly chose to leave.

"Why didn’t you ask? Why didn’t you notice? I’m not trying to make you feel even more fucked up but Liam, didn’t you notice what was going on with him? This couldn’t have been a sudden thing, why didn’t you notice him being more quiet and doing practically everything you did?" Niall wasn’t one for being sensitive, only blunt and straight forward, and that’s what Liam needed right now.

"Because he’s Zayn…and I-I knew how he felt…about me, and I thought that maybe it was a result of that and I didn’t want to say anything and ruin what we had, but what- what am I supposed to do Niall? Please, help me." he pleaded, bloodshot puffed eyes.

"I can’t. Liam I can’t help you. I’ll try but this is all up to you. Whatever you decide to do, I will be by your side. Okay? Just get some rest mate. Don’t go running out and doing something you’ll regret. Get a good nights sleep and then we’ll talk more in the morning." he went down the hall to grab an extra blanket and pillow, setting it up and waiting till his mate was settled in there, before escaping to his room and his boyfriend who was sound asleep wrapped around his pillow.

Liam stayed awake though, pulling out his phone and staring at the contact he wanted to call, to hear his voice, but he didn’t, because he didn’t know what he would say. Sorry seemed to be the hardest word, because it didn’t do anything, it didn’t bandage the damage or heal the pain he obviously caused. With a suffering sigh Liam turned over, finally giving into the exhaustion.

          ~~~~~~~~~

A few miles away Harry was having an even worse time with Zayn who was clinging to him, arms around his neck and legs around his waist, apologizing again and again because he had woken up his mate with his night terrors, screaming at the top of his lungs for Liam not to leave, always waking up alone with Harry shaking him awake.

"It’s alright. It’s fine Zee. I’m not going to leave." he sighed internally, shifting so that he was laying on his back, Zayn laying on his chest, not loosening his hold.

"Sorry. D-didn’t mean to w-wake you. P-Please don’t l-l-leave. Liam w-w-ould always le-leave. So- so alone and c-c-c-cold." he sniffled, his frigid toes curling under Harry’s calf and that stilled any thoughts that Harry may have had about leaving, clinging to Zayn just as tight as he was getting in return.

"I wont. It’s me, Harry, I"m not Liam. I’m your best mate, and I will always be here. Relax, stop crying, go to sleep, I will still be here when you wake up, it’s okay." he murmured, running hands up and down his damp back, pressing fingers into his pressure points repeatedly until he seemed to fall limp with a relieved sigh, his breaths falling slower, smoother with a few minutes, but the grip around his neck stayed stiff. He didn’t fight it, simply wrapping the blankets around both their shoulders and nodding off, the warmth from his body keeping the both of them cozy when the smaller one seemed frigid.

In the morning he turned over, not registering in his mind that he had more room, and that there wasn’t soft dewy breathing in his ear, taking a few seconds to think before opening his eyes and glancing with heavily lidded eyes to his right and the empty rumpled space beside him. It took another minute for him to stretch out and stumble out of the bed, finishing up in the bathroom and heading downstairs, the most delicious smells wafting from the kitchen the sound of the fryer and faint humming bouncing off of the hallways as he crept through them, standing in the doorway to watch the brunette. Zayn was standing at the stove, manning several pots and fryers, humming under his breath, a faint pleased smile on his lips, the first that Harry had seen since he brought him over.

_You caused my heart to bleed and_   
_You still owe me a reason_   
_'Cause I can't figure out why…_   
_Why I’m alone and freezing_   
_While you’re in the bed that she’s in_   
_And I’m just left alone to cry_

the song pushed the smile off of Harry’s face and put a weight on his heart because Zayn’s voice told the story of the agony and ache that he wasn’t saying,

"Where did you get that song from Zee?" his voice was muffled but the dainty shoulders still jumped, turning to him with apprehension written all over his face.

"Um, made it up. Last night. Sorry." which was ridiculous because why should he be sorry for creating such a heart wrenching and beautiful crooning tune that made him want to burst into tears.

"No, never be sorry. That was absolutely beautiful, will you sing me the whole thing?" he asked, shuffling forward until he was able to lean against the island right across from him.

"Um, okay. N-not now though." which Harry nodded at. Better to go at his pace, let him gain control.

"Alright, now, what have you been upto?" he asked, glancing over his shoulder at the stove top where warm plates stacked with food had his moth watering.

"I made breakfast." with a shy smile, keeping his eyes on his feet as Harry insisted on carrying over all of the plates and digging in enthusiastically, having seconds and thirds of the tangy sweet crepes and poached eggs, everything so surprisingly good.

"Good?" Zayn was watching him, his face only half empty, eager for an answer. And it wasn’t hard for Harry to give it to him.

"Yeah, it’s good, you’re good babe." the gleaming incandescent smile nearly blinding him as it overtook the serious face and for a moment Harry felt a trill because that smile was because of him. Zayn looked better, healed and nearly like his old self, even for that tenth of a second. It was a good start.

 

"Alright, I’m going out to grab some groceries. Are you sure that you’re going to be okay here Zayn?" Harry asked, glancing over at his friend who was curled up in the armchair, a hardcover notebook across his knees and ink stains all over his palms and his bottom lip. Zayn nodded, shooting him a small smile, before going back over to his notes, working on something that he refused to let Harry see.

"Is there anything that you want from outside? Or from your house babe?" he asked, stretching his cramped muscles.

"M-my b-box under the b-bed. A-and um…p-put this on t-the dresser please." Harry watched as he reached over to the leather band wrapped across his wrist, undoing the strap with shaking hands and holding it out to Harry hesitantly, unsure. Harry assumed that Liam had given it to him, maybe a substitute for the collar and he didn’t comment on it, choosing instead to pocket the strip of leather and reach out to press a kiss to the pale strip of bared skin and smile reassuringly.

"Call me if there’s anything else you may want. Or whatever your in the mood to eat. I’ll be back soon." watching Zayn’s ochre eyes as he nodded, turning back to his books and the words scribbled across the pages, crossed out over, under, a title on the top of the page but he didn’t try and read it, leaving him to his words.

"I’ll be back as soon as possible." he called, closing the door as the soft voice laughed, the sound shimmering and dancing across the halls as he called bye.

Zayn was alone now, not knowing what to do with himself. The others hadn’t let him out of their sights since they found him, always making sure one of them was here with him, in case he needed them, or incase he did something that he needed saving from, but that hadn’t been the case. He was perfectly content hunched over his book, trying to process all the compressed emotions in his guts and get it on paper, out of his head and maybe make it hurt less.

He didn’t notice the knocks on the door, music blasting in his beats, he didn’t pay attention as the doorknob slowly turned to the side and a tall shadow tiptoed into the room, eyes roaming all over the smaller figure. But he did feel the large palm that fell on his shoulder, making him jump, heart palpitating because he knew that grip. He knew those fingers that were caressing his jutting bones. His breathing hitched and sped up, lungs speeding to work when no oxygen was coming in.

"Zayn." no. He wouldn’t bend to his will. He refused, not matter how warm the voice was, melting the ice in his veins and made the edges of his mind fuzzy. Shaking his head he wrenched out of the bigger grip, stealing away to the other side of the room, back pressed to the wall and hands gripping the front of his sweatshirt together.

Liam was surprised, to say the least when he stepped into the flat to find it empty, except for the muffled sounds of familiar R&B that told him exactly who was here because Harry was all into that Indie Mumford and Sons type thing. He immediately recognized that dark head of hair that sat hunched over hard at work. It was only instinct that made him walk over to touch that smooth skin peeking out from where the hoodie dipped off one shoulder, thumbing over the cold skin until he pulled away and tried to get away from him.

"Zayn?" watching Zayn through hooded fatigued eyes as his mate, his best mate shook his head, crowding into a corner and practically quivering.

"Can we talk? Please? I know- I know that I’ve been a prick but let me explain." he said, taking a few steps forward, but hten quickly backpedaling when he was the absolute sheer panic and uncertainty in Zayn’s big doe eyed now shuttered and eyelashes nearly pressed together as the small chest rose and fell faster then normal, hand clenching his shirt, as if to protect himself from Liam.

"Please. I know….I know that I’ve messed up. A lot. But I am so extremely terribly sorry and I just- I’ve missed you. More then I thought I would. And I just….will you look at me? Please?" it was hard for Liam to plead with Zayn to listen when he was usually hanging on his every word. But the brunette head stayed bowed, a shake of the tousled locks his answer.

"I didn’t…I didn’t know that we were more serious then what I thought. I wish that you would’ve told me. So that I could’ve done the right thing and ended it before it got so serious. And I should’ve. We- we never should have gotten so serious, it messes with us, as friends and more importantly as a band. I care about you…as a friend and maybe even a little more than that. But is it worth it? Is this really worth it?" Liam kept talking, needing to get it off his back because these thoughts had been plaguing his every living breathing thought.

"Babe, answer me."

"D-don’t. F-fuck you. F-f-fuck you Li-Liam Payne." he looked up surprised, watching as Zayn’s breathing seemed to labor for a second, before he gained control, taking deep breaths before looking up at his former bed lover with a glare that seemed ot nearly drain him.

"You p-played me. Y-you knew how I f-felt about you and you fucked m-me over for your fucking d-dick. How co-could you do that to me? Where was y-your fucking conscience wh-when you were holding a hand over my throat w-with your di-dick up my arse? Wi-with your kinks and c-constantly calling me a-a…a slut and a cock -whore and m-making me feel like n-n-nothing? You used me for your s-sick pleasure and I hate y-you so fucking much right now. You-you’ve fucking broken my heart and I c-can’t breath be-because of you." his whole body shook with anger and his radiating agony that slammed into Liam with a force that had him stumbling backwards, gasping.

"Zayn, please…It’s not…I’m so so sorry."

"G-get out. D-don’t." Zayn’s glare followed him as Liam was the one listening to orders for once, stumbling out the door and out into the flurry of rain, those furious agonizing eyes haunting him as he walked out aimlessly, his words bouncing around in his head. He wondered if his pain was anything close to what Zayn had felt these past weeks then he knew he didn’t ever deserve to be forgiven. He didn’t want to be forgiven. Not after what he did to Zayn.

"Liam? What were you doing in my flat?" Harry stood in front of the defeated looking lad, making sure he didn’t look completely offensive because Liam was still his mate, no matter what happened between him and Liam.

"Haz, just…take care of him. He’s-"

"What did you do Liam?" he asked, eyes widening as he dropped the groceries in his arms and barreled up the path, wrenching the door open.

"Zayn? Zee babe, where are you?" Harry tore down the halls, slamming every door open in the hopes of seeing the petite figure somewhere, intact and okay.

"Zayn! Zayn it’s me, it’s Harry. Please, please tell me that you’re okay." he called out, running frustrated hands through his hair when all of the bedrooms wound up empty, including his own and the bathrooms.

"Haz." a single word, had him looking around, back into his bedroom. The door to his closet was ajar, pulling it back he saw Zayn curled up pitifully on the floor right beside his old tattered boots, small and forlorn.

"Hey buddy. Whatcha doing in there?" bending lower when he didn’t get an answer.

"Alright, budge over." manuevering his lanky frame into the diminutive space, until they were pressed knee to knee, the door closed and the both of them pitched into the darkness if the tight surroundings. He didn’t try and say anything, simply reaching out to grasp his hands, lacing the fingers of both palms together and pulling them onto his lap.

“ _Oh,you can’t hear me cry_  
 _See my dreams all die_  
 _From where you’re standing_  
 _On your own._  
 _It’s so quiet here_  
 _And I feel so cold_  
 _This house no longer_  
 _Feels like home._

_Oh,when you told me you’d leave_   
_I felt like I couldn’t breath_   
_My aching body fell to the floor_   
_Then I called you at home_   
_You said that you weren’t alone_   
_I should’ve known better_   
_Now it hurts much more._

_You caused my heart to bleed and_   
_You still owe me a reason_   
_'Cause I can't figure out why…_   
_Why I’m alone and freezing_   
_While you’re in the bed that she’s in_   
_And I’m just left alone to cry_

_oh oh oh ohh_   
_oh oh oh ohh_   
_yea yea ahey yeah_   
_yeah yeah yeah yeah_

_You caused my heart to bleed and_   
_You still owe me a reason_   
_'Cause I can't figure out why…_

_You caused my heart to bleed and_   
_You still owe me a reason_   
_'Cause I can't figure out why…_

_Oh,you can’t hear me cry_   
_See my dreams all die_   
_From where you’re standing_   
_On your own._   
_It’s so quiet here_   
_And I feel so cold_   
_This house no longer_   
_Feels like home._

Harry sat quiet as Zayn’s soft voice crooned out slowly into the echoing space, the words wafting into his very soul.

"It’s okay. You don’t have to go back there. This is your home now. With me." Harry sighed to him, thumbing over his skin.

"I don’t care where I am anymore. Y-you’ve m-made me fe-feel more l-loved and in ch-charge. Thank you Harry." he mumbled, leaning forward to press his forehead against the curls covering Harry’s.

"You’re my mate Zayn. ‘M always here for you. And you are in charge, always. No matter what you think and where you are. In here, you are always in charge." Harry reached over with two fingers to tap against Zayn’s temple. But the way that he was looking at Zayn with those eyes that spoke of pride and something that was flourishing in both of them.

"Love you Zaynieboo." and Harry had to ruin the moment with that horrendous nickname and by leaping forward to smother his face in kisses and fingers digging into his side, until Zayn was roaring with laughter and fighting his oversized fingers.

"Alright. alright! Lo-love you t-too." letting himself be grabbed around the waist and dragged out of the room onto the couch in the living room where he curled back up on the couch, this time with Harry’s head pressed to his shoulder, not seeing the proud smile that pushed out Harry’s dimples because Zayn didn’t flinch at his touch anymore, and it wasn’t the most dramatic improvement but it was a start.


End file.
